


By My Side

by Inei



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Canon-Typical Violence, Fix-It, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Konohagakure | Hidden Leaf Village, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Canon, Pre-Konoha Village, Senju Hashirama-centric, Slow Burn, Suicide Attempt, Uchiha Madara Needs a Hug, Uchiha Madara-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:54:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27683165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inei/pseuds/Inei
Summary: "Thee cannot traveleth backeth in timeth to fixeth thy mistakes, but thee can learneth from those folk and f'rgive theeself f'r not knowing bett'r."Hashirama lost his friend twice:1. When their friendship was figured out2. When he left the village and came back attacking itAnd he won't allow the and third and fourth to go.
Relationships: Kyuubi | Nine-tails | Kurama & Uchiha Madara, Nibi | Two-tails | Matatabi & Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama & Uzumaki Mito, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Hikaku, Senju Tobirama & Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uzumaki Mito, Uchiha Hikaku & Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Hikaku & Uchiha Naori, Uchiha Madara & Uchiha Naori, Yonbi | Four-tails | Son Gokuu & Uchiha Madara
Comments: 23
Kudos: 59





	1. Realize pt.1

Fading. The world around him is fading slowly. Blackening corners appearing as his sight is fading. His eyelids are heavy as death slowly claims him. He is lying motionless on the vacant cold stones. Even with his eyes lingering unfocused, even if his eyes emptily staring, even if his eyes blinding each second passing, he could feel the man kneeling beside him frowning, as this is the second time he dies in front of him. Despite his frowning friend, he gathered his remaining strength and managed ghosting a smile. “War buddies… huh?” he chuckled. His heart is reaching its final beat, his lungs are stopping the exchange between oxygen and carbon dioxide, and his eyes are closing as the world around him became nothing but smudges of darkened colours. “I guess… that’s fine… by…” _me_ remained unsaid, as his organs gave up and death embraced him.

* * *

The clouds hide the moon from view as more of their kin gathered to cover up the left empty spaces of the dark sky. The clashes between two steels ringed in the background hidden by the scream of a wild beast. Wood groaned as it erupted from the ground and came striking at him and his companion, just to be tattered by a black sphere. This, however, didn’t stop them from arising more similar sharpened branches. Behind them appeared a man with an oversized sword that came jumping to him, mouth moving -probably talking, but he, for some reason, can’t hear what’s being said. Although, he knew for instance that this particular man looked strikingly familiar. The long brown hair, tan skin, fighting style, and kekkei genkai. _His kekkei genkai_. 

His eyes snapped, suddenly, the silence of the man’s voice became audible and the blurred stutters became painstakingly clear. “...blood, sweat, and tears, Madara!” then silence. The last fight he had with Hashirama, this - _this_ is the Valley of the End. where it all begins. And this beast -the Kyubi is under his control. That’s his last battle with the shodaime Hokage, his last battle with Hashirama, the beginning of everything, where he’ll lay down and implant his cells into his body, where he’ll wake the Rinnegan, where he’ll meet Zetsu, manipulate Obito, revive as edo-tensei, arise the Fourth Great Ninja war, become the Jyubi Jinchureki -the end of his failing record, his third death-

In reflex, his kama clashed with Hashirama’s oversized sword. His eyes wide and pupils contrasted. His heart stopped as realization hit him again, more roughly and immensely agonizing. “...Nakama!” he shook. His body trembled by the force of the clash and he wavered. He wavered and fell backwards on the Kyubi’s head. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing comprehensive got out, except for a croaked “Hashirama” that to him, sounded more like a whimper. And this, of course, caught the other off guard making him retract his sword couple of centimetres. Not moments ago, both of them were up against each other’s throats. Now, Madara’s back touched the Kyubi’s head, each hand loosely holding his weapons separated by Hashirama’s hand, one between his left arm and body while the other held the sword tightly to his throat. He is at Hashirama’s mercy, he realized.

* * *

Not moments ago, he was fighting with an extremely dangerous Madara that has control over the Nine-tailed fox, and now, he is on top of this other Madara, that is shaking with wide charcoal eyes -he just noticed that he deactivated the Sharingan- filled with _fear_. Something so very rare with Uchiha Madara -that is, if he is fighting the same one. The whimper that escaped his friend’s throat when he called him made him retract his sword a couple of centimeters aways from slicing his throat. Blinking his own wide eyes from shock, he fully retreated his sword and straightened. Worry clouds his eyes that are gazing at his friend in bewilderment. These actions are so not Madara-like. Not so long ago he was fighting for dominance and now he’s submissive. Completely gave up and out of determination that always cloaked him. “Madara?” all he got was silence as an answer.

“Madara, what happened?” he asked slowly, careful as not to break the fragile figure shivering under him. With a single hand sign, his sword disappeared in a poof of smoke and with that being done, he stood up slowly and extended his arm to the still panicked man. But there was no reaction coming out from him. He closed his eyes and sighed, then knelt again, this time, beside him, and stretched an arm to touch Madara’s cheek, see if that at least will get him a reaction. He looked as if he was in some kind of subspace, hyperventilating or even panicking. His breaths were short, but deep and ragged. His eyes blew wide, unfocused, unblinking. His form shivered violently, as if it was buried under the snow for three straight hours, and he looked paler than usual. Fairly pale and shaken. And this made him worry, because his friend, Madara, never showed any weakness. Let alone, in front of him.

His palm touched the pale, cold cheek and this, at least, earned him a reaction. His friend’s pupil shrinks and eyes widened even more, gasping, struggling to breath as though someone was choking him. Realizing that there was a palm on his wet cheek, his body tensed and his eyes dilated. He’s absolutely not taking these as good signs, so he asks again, his eyes digging in the charcoal ones. “Is everything alright?” but his friend broke eye contact, gazing anywhere but him. He opened his mouth but ajar but nothing came out, as he closed it again. Hashirama retracted his palm and rested his arm on his knee. Not knowing what to do in this kind of situation, he kept his eyes still on his friend waiting for him to say anything, to do anything -just anything to make him functional again. 

The kama slid down the still beast’s head as the gloved hand raised and reached out for him, reaching out for something to grasp on it, but he caught nothing but transparent wind and cold raindrops. “Hashi...rama…?” it came out as an inaudible whimper, a mumble barley heard, but he said something, and this is refreshing, even if for a bit.

“Yes,” not leaving his friend’s arm hanging in the air, he reached with his left hand and held it in a tight grip then bent it, and held it with both of his hands firmly. “What is it?” he stared in his eyes waiting for him to talk. Analysing his eye, it’s like staring at a abysmal fossa. Black eyes void of any emotion, empty of any meaning to anything. He wondered, they were just fighting, Madara was obviously thrilled as he jumped to attack and dodged to avoid incoming ones, how did he turn into this quivering form, these null eyes, emptied soul, and dull reflexes. He really wondered if he missed something during their fight.

“Am I… dead?” he sucked in a sharp breath clamping his mouth shut in a stiff thin line. His dark brown eyes widened as he was taken back by that one question. His brows furrowed and eyes narrowed as he stared at his friend forlorn. Why would Madara ask such a thing when he knew very well that he is as much alive as he is? With the flowing blood, thumping heart, and screaming mind? Why would he think of that, out of all questions that could be asked about the situation now? True, he was after Madara’s head as was Madara after his, but he didn’t fight him seriously, trying to convince him to stop this meaningless fight by words. Just as he was going to, _this_ happened.

“What do you think?” right, what does he think? Since he asked him this question, he must have an answer for it, and he isn’t sure if he wants to hear it or not, but he wants to know what he thinks right now. Whatever triggered this question to arise inside his friend’s mind, he is going to find out.

Clouded, black holes stared indifferently and bored into his confused, daunted ones, before diverging to stare at the rainy sky above. Madara didn’t blink until now, either he didn’t feel his dried eyes sting or he didn’t care since the rain is falling. The deafening silence is killing him. The sound of the rain drops became eerie to his ears, as the uncanny silence stretched infinitely, until Madara cut through the soundlessness. “...I don’t know anymore.” and silence followed.

Hashirama, to say the least, wasn’t surprised by Madara’s answer, so he just stared indifferently at him. For some reason, he knew that whatever his friend was going to answer won't come as a surprise to him. So he sighed again, trying to get answers out of his hopeless friend right now won’t help him answer the unanswered built-up questions in his racing mind, he reasoned. 

Letting go of his friend’s hand, he straightened then stood up, stretching out a hand to help his unmoving friend off his back. “I don’t know what you are thinking right now, you can either tell me or not, it’s your choice, even if I prefer the latter. Let’s return to our village now, hmm?” he smiled at him and Madara just stared preserved. He doesn’t know if he said something wrong or not -he’s sure he didn’t. It is true that Madara left the village, but if it wasn’t for him, it wouldn’t be created in the first place. So whether he denies it or not, he is still part of it.

“I have no place in your village. I left it on my own will.” right, he left the village on his own will claiming that just because he knew him very well did he know that this cooperation between their clans is nothing but engaging in a silent struggle. But now, seeing the person in front of him currently is a completely different version from the last one he’d seen. The one who left the village and hid in the darkness’ embrace is not the same as the one who is laying on his back defencelessly, being washed clean from the dirt and the sweat by the cleanse rain. This one has a place in the village. If not in the Uchiha compound, surrounded by his brethren, then with him, beside him, as a peer only, but as his close friend and brother. He didn’t, however, forget about _your village_ part. Why did he call it his and not theirs? Then he remembered. The conversation he had with Madara that day had stricken him like a lightning shock when he remembered what his friend said about his relationship with his clan. They didn’t trust his judgement or anything he did to protect them, abandoning him and siding with the other clan. It’s not like they are in a war, he knows, but that doesn’t mean they should throw their kin away and trust the other. Then he realized that his friend was alone despite how many people surrounded him in every direction. His friend was in a conflict despite the peace they were in. He was grieving but no one heard him. He was crying but no one supported him. He was lonely and no one accompanied him. He always put their well-being before his but no one acknowledged him. No one emphasized his merit.

He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. Now he understood why his friend couldn’t stay. He didn’t realize that his friend wasn’t accepted in the village that he helped in founding and flourishing. He didn’t even know that the whole village they founded distrust him. That makes him no better than them. But after knowing this bitter truth, he knows now that he has time to fix things, and this time, he will not ruin it.

His eyes hardened and his smile brightened, this time, more determined on sticking by his friend’s side. If anyone dared to oppose him on that, even if it was his brother, he won’t let them change his mind. It’s already settled. “You are wrong! You have a place in the village! If not with any citizen, if not with your clan, then it’s with me!” he grinned, and it widened when he saw the tiniest light inside those black, pitless eyes. He is going to fill them, and let his friend be the happiest man in the world. He is going to get back the friend he lost. He promises.

The gloved, right hand stretched out to reach his slowly, hesitant, as if touched his, it’ll be electrified. But at least, Madara is reaching for him, and he is always ready to do the same. When their hands clasped, Hashirama didn’t think twice before pulling him up and squeezing him in a tight hug, holding him as if the moment he let go, Madara would vanish. “I promise I will never leave your side, I will always be there when you need the most. Just tell me when something is bothering you, Madara. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you were in a conflict until you said so. I’m a horrible friend. So please, Madara, help me fix it. Trust me with your resolve as I trusted you.” with each word he mouthed to Madara’s ears, the hug tightened, but Madara is still unreactive in his arms.

“Hashirama,” it felt like a while since they were standing on the same spot, in the same position, and under the chilly rain. His friend didn’t return his hug, he noted. But once he was called softly by him, he let go immediately, both hands resting on each of his shoulders and responded with a hurried yes. “You seem to forget that we are standing on top of a beast’s head.” that… was definitely not what he expected. Raising a brow, he tilted his head in confusion and saw Madara nodding to the large black and orange ears behind him then he remembered where they were actually standing at the moment. Of course, the Kyubi.

“Oh.” he let go of Madara’s shoulders and stopped back laughing nervously with ramaging eyes. “I… um… I forgot?” it’s normal. Completely normal for people to be engaged on top of a creature’s head deeply engaged in the situation they are dealing with. And the beast is silent and still. So, of course, it’s normal for him to forget that he is standing on something alive and the solid ground! At least, that earned him a snort from his friend.

Madara tightened his grip on the gunbai before reaching with his other hand the chain that connected the scythe with the gunbai and tugged it towards him. As the chain flew up, the scythe’s hilt flew with it and Madara catches it easily before placing both weapons behind his back. “So, what now?” he asked, shooting the Sharingan eyes of the bijuu a look before his gaze turned to the black haired man, who by now turned around to look at the still tailed beast.

“I don’t know what you are going to do after we return to the village, but I am going to set him free.” which means, if he told him about his plan of giving each land a bijuu to host, he will most likely disagree. He saw the red Sharingan spinning to life in Madara’s eyes and the blackness fading into nothing but a pupil and three tomoe before he fully turned and walked it’s forehead. He saw Madara rest a palm and his forehead between its eyes before a loud roar was heard and vibrated its nose bridge under their feet.

“You filthy bastard!”

“Kyubi-”

“Anija!” landing on the pond that was created underneath them, Tobirama, Madara and the Kyubi shouted in sync, then silence followed before Tobirama cut through with a grunted shout, glaring daggers at his older brother. “Why is he alive?” he winced. He knows that whenever his brother and his best friend are in the same room, they would start bickering the moment their eyes lock with each other. He remembered the last two weeks when Tobirama suggested making a Police Station with the authority of the Uchihas after learning about their Sharingan triggers and the reason it awakens, referring to it as the ‘Curse of Hatred’. Madara, being an Uchiha and the clan head, didn’t take this lightly. Their bickering that day turned into an actual fight that nearly brought the Hokage Tower down to its roots, and he had to step in to stop them. Which was a drag, to say the least. So, he sighed, and turned to his friend who nodded to him before facing the Kyubi’s orange fur again. With that, he jumped down and landed three feet away from where Tobirama is standing.

“Anija,” Tobirama stated as he walked towards him, posture stiff and on guard, eyes as hard as iron digging through him, and tongue, definitely, prepared to lash at him. Completely the opposite of what he is now. On guard, yes. Stiff, no. He is ready to defend his friend if his little brother is to throw something untrue or assume that Madara is manipulating him or luring him to a trap or break him until he is no match. Which to himself, is obviously not true. His brother stopped in front of him with a last splash of water, crossing his arms he snarled. “Explain.” brief, but hard. He doesn’t even know how all of this even started. Whatever he is going to say probably won’t convince Tobirama, who is a man of logic. He raised his head, and squinted his eyes, thumbs and index fingers around his chin thinking hardly of how to phrase his words.

“I really, really, really don’t know how all of this started in the first place. So, whatever I say you won’t find it convincing but I will say what I know.” he began, looking at Tobirama seriously, searching in his face for any different sign of believing whatever he is going to say, but unsurprisingly, not a single hair was moved. He sighed, then continued. “We were just fighting like any enemy would fight seeking each other’s heads before Madara suddenly… um… snapped out of it? I don’t know but believe me, ototo! I don’t remember hitting him on the head! Ever!” but he just stared with one eyebrow raised. Hashirama sweatdropped.

“Unconvincing.” he wasn’t surprised, in fact, he knew it, but this single, blunt word made him slump. He doesn’t even know why he was surprised when he did expect this to be said. 

“But, Tobirama! I told you all I know! How am I supposed to know what is in his mind?”

“You don’t have to know you have to imply! To suspect! Anija, you yourself told me what you and him discussed in the Uchiha shrine!”

“Yes, indeed, I did, Tobirama! But-!”

“No buts! If you are denying that conversation never happened, then you are saying that all of this is an act of his because of the rumours going around the Uchiha about him!”

“I never denied anything! And it is probably- wait a second. Did you just say ‘rumours about him’? What rumours? How come I never heard about them? Who started them? Their accuracy? Since when?” _Are they perhaps related to his relationship with his clan? The reason they don’t trust him?_ He had so many questions regarding them, but didn’t have to shoot them all since, obviously, Tobirama is going to answer none of them.

Tobirama shook his head, clearly not surprised by his ignorance on such an important matter -to him, if not to his little brother. “You ask too many questions in one go, anija.” he opened his mouth to speak but Tobirama raised his hand to allow him to continue, so he closed it and nodded. A silent ‘speak when I’m done’.

“One, of course you wouldn’t know about them because you are always oblivious to the most important matters! No, don’t get me wrong. I careless about what happens to this Uchiha, but the things the other Uchihas say about him -his reputation amongst all of them is, by means, the worst.”

Now he is unquestionably curious about what the rumours say. And nervous. Whilst it is true that he is, most of the time, oblivious to important things, he’d never heard of any murmuring amidst any citizen when they were walking around the compound and the village. But maybe, they quiet down when he is around knowing that he would be disappointed in them for accusing his friend for things he knows he would never do, or say. His lips thinned the line and brown brows knitted slightly. His squinted eyes stared hardly at his brother, sending his silent indication to continue. So he did. “I’ve heard some Uchihas gossiping about the death of Uchiha Tajim, Uchiha Masao and Uchiha Izuna.” he blinked. Izuna? The cause of his death? Everyone should know by now that Tobirama sent a striking blow to his side but accusing Madara for it…?

“They say that, in all of Uchiha history, Madara and his little brother were the first to awaken the Mangekyo Sharingan. It is initially awakened by the trauma suffered from witnessing the death of someone close to the user, which means they've been saying that he is the one who killed the previous Uchiha clan head in order to obtain it. The Mnagekyo, as it may be powerful, drains a considerable amount of chakra when simply activating and maintaining the advanced dōjutsu, and even more through each technique used. Even more, it can cause considerable damage to their being, leaving the body in agonising pain and causing deterioration to their vision until eventually over-usage leaves them blind. Their vision can be restored by transplanting the Mangekyō Sharingan of an Uchiha with strong blood ties -ideally a sibling- thus awakening the Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan. You get what I’m saying, don’t you?” and he wished he didn’t.

Idly saying, this new information Tobirama had searched for within the Uchiha clan dojutsu development probably after he heard about the rumours are undoubtedly stunning that it left his voice stuck in his vocal cords. His eyes are probably plates wide and he feels his body frozen. Processing the intel he was provided was not hard, but he felt like re-processing it to believe what he heard. It truly is mind numbing, and Hashirama is certain that Madara would chop off his own limbs if he dared hurting Izuna.

“Summarizing all of this, he is the one who dealt the final blow for both Uchiha Izuna and Tajima.” Hashirama may act like it, but he isn’t dumb. He needn’t say that.

“About this Uchiha Masao, I’ve heard that he was Madara's first younger brother who was ill but was sent to war either way, the same year Madara joined in, which I’m unsure of when. They say that he was the reason Uchiha Masao died in his first year. Some say he was killed by him to awaken his Sharingan, but he didn’t. There are a lot of rumours regarding this Masao, but it all started when one of the long dead Uchiha saw him carrying his death composed body with no shed tear and no red Sharingan. Also, some said that-”

“Enough.” he didn’t mean his voice to be commanding and threatening towards his brother, he knows that it is not his fault these… These foul rumours arose. But he couldn’t help but let his chakra raw, his blood boil, and anger flow. He couldn’t.

The air is heavy and suffocating around them. Neither of the Senju brothers is talking but both have their gazes either on the ground or on the Uchiha that was stroking kyubi’s muzzle. Just now, they realized that they were standing on a pond the river and rain created. The elegant river flow was disturbed by an explosion caused by their fight creating a valley that made it fall in a waterfall. A loud splash soon disturbed their uncomfortable silence. The nine tails’ tails were swashing in the air happily and his large mouth stretched in a wide, toothy grin before swirling and running to the other side leaving a vibrating ground after him that soon calmed when he was out of range. Well, they certainly missed a lot. 

Hashirama stared at Madara, who had his head raised to the darkened sky and dark, navy hair neat from the wetness that ruined its untamed messy strands, draped behind his back with his bangs falling to his shoulder blades while also sticking to his forehead and cheeks damped from the ever increasing rain, and frowned. Forgetting about what Tobirama lately told him can’t be forgotten this easily, it surely will nag him every time he looks at either the Uchihas or Madara himself. He couldn’t believe that Madara’s own brethren shunned and rejected him. He can’t believe that Madara, his dear best friend Madara, survived amidst all those unappreciative people and their looks of veiled contempt. He needs to find a way to refute these false statements. To show the village’s civilians that Uchiha Madara, a fellow founder of the village they name their home now, is a person of merit and is absolutely trustworthy and a person of well deserved veneration. But he can’t do it on his own. If Madara is the darkened tunnel, he is the light to ignite it. His friend just needs a push to better things up, and he is more than willing to be his counsellor. More than willing to help those blind people open their eyes and see his friend’s unmatched kindness.

He breathed in slowly, smelling the rain that is mixed with dirt creating earthy smell, then exhaled through his mouth to calm himself down. After all, he has to be himself around them. Around his friend, especially. He straightened up and smiled, eyes travelling to his friend and arms spread wide by his side. “Instead of standing under the rain thinking things over, why not just return to our village and dry under the roof of our home?” he declared, gaining their attention. He saw Tobirama open his mouth to speak, eyes wide, brows narrowed and glaring, but Madara preceded him.

“Do you think it’s a really good idea for me to return there, Hashirama? I’ve already told you that I have no place there.” he stared at him indifferent with the same pitless charcoal eyes that he swore he would fill, and continued. “The fact that I left the village and came back to attack it is treason. I don’t think that anyone would be comfortable with me around.”

“Were they even when you were around?” he blurted out, shot the words without and earned himself an unimpressed stare from his brother while Madara turned his head and wrapped his arms around himself casting his gaze anywhere but up, staring wordlessly at the flowing pond. He slapped himself mentally. He knew that his friend knows what his clan mates and Konoha citizens thought about him, yet he blurted this out mindlessly. _Way to go, Hashirama._ He cleared his throat to rephrase his sentence, and looked away guilty. “I-I mean… umm… we discussed this prior to Tobirama’s appearance, Madara.”

“I didn’t agree.” he crossed his arms and gave Tobirama a sidelong stare before his gaze returned to him, and continued. “I even doubt that your little brother will be very happy with me around you.”

“I’ll try to convince him!”

“And he will listen to you? If I’m being frank here, Hashirama, Tobirama was and still is the one making decisions for you! That’s one. Two, I did say that even if I return to your-”

“Our” 

“-even if I return to _your_ village, I will just be caste away. I’m an unwanted presence in your precious village, Hashirama. Why is it hard to understand this?”

“It is not hard and I know that people resent you for no apparent reasons-”

“In which they make up some and start believing it as a true statement.”

“But still…” things are going south. So south he doesn’t even know how to end it. He knows by now that his friend never wanted to desert the village, that because of what the people thought he is, wanted him to be, he probably couldn’t take what was being said about him, the lies thrown here and there about him, he became what they wanted him to be. Hashirama, while never knowing about any of this, thought that his friend was strong enough to let people see how mistaken they are about him, and he is because he beard them since being young. Despite him relinquishing later on, he still is strong because he was able to bear the pressure for too long until it became unbearable to listen to. Until it became off the hook and became more than rumours. He doesn’t know what it means to be hated as he was always the loved one.

“But still what, Hashirama? Why are you struggling to find words trying to convince me to return there? There is no place for me in the village, there never was. Even my clan doesn’t have a place. The whole village hates them, wary of them, scared of them and their ‘Curse of Hatred’. Even the newborn scares them. Your brother hates them. And when he becomes the second Hokage, it is the end of my clan. I told them but no one listened. I told you that back then, too, and you probably lived to tell the tale for your brother, too.” he saw him bow head and his dark mane fell like a curtain obscuring his face from view. His arms fell and curled into tight fists he is sure that he won’t be able to ease, and his form trembled visibly giving him the feeling of running towards hi friend and hug him, show him affection, show him that he is wanted, that he is loved, that he can be happy like everyone else. But he refrained himself. “What did we achieve by joining forces and creating a Shinobi village if peace isn’t even available? It’s like a forced alliance, even if it is not. Cooperation is just like engaging in a silent struggle. I told you, Hashirama, we have no place to go. None of the Uchihas believed me. They chose you over me, their previous clan head. They chose even Tobirama, who is always wary of them, over me. What do I have left there? Nothing. Nothing but more of these nonsense everyone seems to whisper and believe in.” a choking sound left his broken cord that was hidden by a light laugh, but still sounded more like a choke. His body shook strongly as his left arm moved and he covered his hidden face in a fist while the right arm hugged his waist. Despite his broken voice, he continued. “And guess what? I have had enough of this. Living by myself in the deadliness of silence is better than living in a cluster where you are unapproachable. It’s not that I care about interacting with them or not, please don’t misunderstand. It’s about living in a society where you are unacceptable for no honest reason. Really, it’s stupid. You were an idiot for asking me to give you another chance, but I am a bigger one for accepting it. You should’ve just killed me, ended my miserable life back then, but no. You are so stupidly forgiving and optimistic, and I… what am I even?!”

Tobirama and Hashirama stood stiff and deadly silent. Their voices faded in thin air and they were unable to talk. It felt as if huge rocks fell on them and they breathed ash instead of air. Madara never dared to break down in front of anyone, even in front of himself, and even in front of the dead. He was always composed and calm, if not calm in stressful situations, then he surely hid it perfectly under his facade. He always kept his emotions at bay, despite him being sensitive to certain things and topics, he never showed it to others. For him to actually wail hushed now struck them brutally. Neither know what they should do or what they should say, but both are eager to close the topic.

“Anyway,” Madara cleared his throat, trying to shove the crack in his tone, but it remained, he continued. “I’m not returning to the village, Hashirama. This is final.” and he understands his reasoning now. This time, perfectly and precisely. So to argue with him more about returning to the village would be selfish of him and unfair to his friend. He’d trade his comfort for his friend’s, but he would never trade for the opposite. He isn’t sure if his friend will notice his sympathetic gaze due to the dark curtain covering it, and he doesn’t want him to, in fear that he will think that he is pathetic, and he may already be thinking that of himself.

He isn’t sure if the raindrops’ sound became eerie and loud or if it is just him hearing things. It could be because of the uncanny silence, or the ringing in his ears. He started feeling his aching head and his heavy limbs. His mind is an empty gap and he has the feeling of throwing himself into his bed and sleep to end this day. He wants it to end sooner. He wants it to end in this very moment -but it doesn’t. He’s tired, he noted. The talk today, the events today, everything made his head hurt and him tired, wanting nothing but to sleep and wake up the next day under the warming of sunrise. He blinked, then opened his mouth to talk.his voice coming out ragged and tired, as if he was forced to talk after eating ten baskets of bitter lemon. “In case you want to return,” he paused, his throat aching from dryness and rawness, he swallowed. “The village's doors are always open.” Madara stared planely at him before turning and jumping up hiding behind the thick layers of mist the rain was creating. 

No words were exchanged between the brothers after Madara left, instead, they both stood silent staring at the place where the man once stood on. Even Tobirama is speechless, despite him always being the one to rescue Hashirama from being shamed if he struggles saying anything in counsel. But apparently, savers aren’t always the savers, and the same goes for him, knowing that he is no better.

He saw Tobirama open his mouth but closed it looking everywhere but at him. He turned away, facing the broken road towards the village, and started walking. “Anij-”

“Let’s go back, Tobirama.” Then he jumped and escaped the scene, noticing that his little brother took a moment before following him.


	2. Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this took a long time updating this chapter but I'm telling you all that, as good as I seem to be at explaining and going through a characters' thoughts or explaining a big even in details, I miserably fail at writing normal events. It was meant to be in Madara's perspective but I couldn't manage to think of anything more to say and it was too short so, I added up Hashirama's day after that event back in the village. That's 1. 2, I had an idea of -also- a time-travel one before this and it's main theme was "A Promise that Doesn't Need Words" aka, Naruto Shippuden's ending 33. Ad as you can tell, I stopped writing it and decided to upload this first (not even the first chap is continued -.-) because it's starter was more unique in my point of view.
> 
> There are things I must say: I had absolutely zero idea about how to name this story (I always struggle with titles unless a miracle happens -.-) so I took the name of one of Naruto's endings (until I find one of my own -.-) and, relating to "Wordless Promise" that was put on hold, anyone remembers FullMetal Brotherhood OP1? => I decided to make it the main theme of this story.
> 
> Enough blabbing and enjoy this chapter so far!

Madara hid under the shading of green leaves standing still on a thick dark branch and stared at the sun as it began to rise. The fiery colors of the sky reminded him of the fires on the battlefield. These fires back then were never extinguished, in war time they enkindle and spark perfectly. As for now, they had no more fuel to alight them but they aren’t dead as fear, suspicion, and resentment never subside, the fire of hostility never extinguishes. Notably, that’s what he thought at first. Now, however, he believes that he ought to fix his perspective on the world to change its future that he had first led to, although he is unsure of how to.

The sun rose over the horizon silently as a cold breeze flew caressing every object that stopped its way. It’s either that the birds are still asleep or they are migrating to another warmer country, as he did not hear their daily good-mornings. Alongside the sun, two questions raised inside his head. First comes the ‘How’ followed by a ‘Why”. How he was able to travel back in time, is something far from his range of thinking as he could not find an answer for it. Neither is: Why him out of all people from his past life. It could’ve been Hashirama. For all he knows, the Senju would make a good example of trying to fix things and diverge from their previous, tainted past that shaped their ill future. Or Tobirama trying to accept the Uchihas as one and not only an ‘Evil Possessed Clan’, for all he cares. But himself? He is clueless. He had failed in a lot of things and broke too many promises for his own good. His previous life was filled with too many failed attempts, and not even one was a success.

He scrunched his nose then sneezed, remembering the day where he stood under the downpour not bothering to find himself a shelter and hide from the raging storm. He placed his index finger under his running nose then sniffed. “What a good start.” he told himself, knowing that he caught a cold because of his numb mind. He wasn’t thinking straight back then and he still isn’t. Trying to get his mind to work properly and comprehend all of this again is like trying to get a chicken to fly. No matter how much he recalls of the past events before this whole complicated case happened, he seems to be unable to fuse it with his current situation. He wonders if it has anything related to the Sage of Six Paths or Kaguya, but wondering won’t help him with anything since he doesn’t have any of their prowess. Not to mention that he is alive now. Not as Gedo-Rinne Tensei or Edo-Tensei but his own soul in his own vessel.

A bird chirped happily and jumped from within the tree and flew freely in the air dragging Madara’s attention to face reality. Looking back to behold the scene before him. Autumn wind blew strongly, cleaning the trees from its useless, multicoloured leaves. Although the leaves may be falling, they’re not useless. They are making way for the young generation that will return the trees to their normal shade of green and blossoming flowers beauty. Thus, it dedicates the helpfulness of the wind that tears away the dead papers from their homeland. They are preparing for a battle between winter, where the deciduous trees have to stand against the harsh winds fighting for survival. To stay alive and make its new leaves beatify it again. Just like life and death. Whenever there is life, death follows in pursuit. Is he truly alive though?

This particular question holds him tight as he is unable to find a convincing answer for. True, he has his heart hammering under the layer of his clothing, under his thin, fair skin, and rough, thick muscles, accompanied by the racing, crimson blood and his lost soul in its porcelain vessel. He remembers dying -death, mustering up his remaining strength to talk to Hashirama -then this. In a blink, he is back to the Kyubi’s fight. He doesn’t know if he should repeat things this time and avoid being too close to Black Zetsu or be an aimless ninja but he is definite that he has one mission that -despite his failures- he should succeed on it: killing the wandering corruption.

He sniffed slightly before leaping from tree to tree rapidly, searching with his keen eyes for an empty space to meditate. Finding a way to lure Zetsu into his trap would be a piece of cake since the will is searching of Indra’s reincarnations to convince them into believing that it is their will and awaken the Rinnegan to break Kaguya’s seal, though, there is one problem: He can’t sense him. For all he knows, it could be watching him from the shadows like it always did, or waiting for him to make a second move that will indicate the argument to gain more power and become the second Rikuddo Senin.

Suddenly, a thought resided in his head and made him stop dead in his tracks. His shadowed copy. The clone sleeping in the coffin underground with the Izanagi installed into its left eye; he can neither deactivate the dojutsu or withdraw the clone. That gives him two things to deal with. 

He landed on the ground and sighed tiredly, knowing very well that his schedule is full. Raising his head towards the hidden sky, his hair fell behind him curtaining his back but not covering it from the vulnerability it showed. He breathed in again and took the weapons off his back to lay them down as he sat on the ground crossing his legs, elbows supporting his arms as he leaned his head in his hands and rubbed his temples, trying to dispel the slight headache that was already forming.

* * *

“Ashina-sama,” in the calm air of the Hokage office, both the Uzumaki clan head and the hidden village’s leader were sitting on the wooden chairs facing each other silently with their warm cup of green tea sitting idly on the table steaming and their advisers behind them standing silently. It is not the first time that Uzumaki Ashina and Senju Hashirama meet each other, in fact, this is their third meeting. Unlike the previous two meetings, this one was announced by Hashirama himself. “I am unfortunate to tell you that I am breaking my engagement with Uzumaki Mito.”

While saying that so casually as if it is not something that may ruin the friendship or alliance between two villages, Hashirama wasn’t the tiniest bit nervous or worried that things may go down hill, he, for once in his life, was content and calm in this meeting. While everyone in the room stared at him with wide eyes, he kept his own eyes indifferent and hugged his tea mug with both of his tan hands welcoming the warmth it radiated from it, taking a picture of his solemn reflection before drinking.

Hashirama could feel his brother shift to protest but was cut off by the slamming sound of both of Ashina’s palms on the wooden table. Realizing what he did out of rage, the Uzumaki clan head cleared his throat and sat down back on the chair before closing his eyes and reopened them again to stare at the Hokage with narrowed, slit, dark eyes. “What is the meaning of this, Hokage?” he set his tea mug aside before breathing in with closed eyes. As he reopened them, Tobirama noticed the change in gleam his eyes held. If he wasn’t in a messy, absolutely unpredictable situation, he would’ve stared at his brother’s eyes analysing every hidden feeling his brother is masking.

“With all due respect, Ashina-sama, the marriage between myself and the Uzumaki princess, Mito-hime, will only bestow Konoha's trust. Howbeit,” he breathed in deeply then, stood up with the chair screeching behind him by the weak effort of sliding with wood, turning, he walked to the small window behind him. “Don’t take what I am going to say now as an insolence for misunderstanding the power of your respected village, Uzushiokagure, but it could be taken as one of the many possibilities.” he turned and faced them all with deadpanned eyes. Solemn but true, nevertheless, and spoke. “Let’s suppose Uzushio gets attacked by foreign forces and your fuinjutsu scrolls and knowledge stolen from you, atop of it, your homeland becomes ruins. Despite gaining Konohagakure’s faith and trust, you cannot guarantee that we will arrive in time to help you get rid of the attack. You’ve won Konoha’s trust but,” narrowing his eyes in challenge, he looked at the clan head’s dark ones and asked. “Have you gained Konoha’s military power?” with that said, the room fell silent.

He looked at everyone in the room with his glistening brown eyes for any negative feedback but found none. Thus, he allowed himself to sit back on his chair and slump on it leaning his elbows on the table and lacing his fingers before resting his forehead on them and allowed his train of thoughts to run over.

The moment he allowed them to take over his mind, they instantly went to the last fight he had with Madara two days ago and their totally unexpected events. Or to Madara in general. He doesn’t know if recalling things from before he left the village -or from the day the village was still in its infancy- will help him figure out  _ when _ all of this started. He gives it a shot, anyway.

If anything his last battle between Madara and himself has taught him, it is that trust isn’t given, but gained. And in their case here with the Uzumaki, marrying the Uzumaki princess is going to give Uzushio Konoha’s trust but not fully, as it is forced. Even if both parties agreed on the given terms, the trust between these two villages was given. The easiest way yet futile one as they can’t guarantee winning the village’s military force -or the whole village’s trust. While it is true that the warring era had finally ended and now they are starting a new one one; an era of peace, it doesn’t mean that hate and resentment were subsided, and if one of the parties decide to break this fragile contract and thin rope of trust they extend to each other, the other will be at a great disadvantage and they will be brought to their unfortunate downfall.

Which reminds him of the Uchiha clan. Despite the three years alliance with them, they have isolated themselves from the rest of the village by constructing their own compound within Konoha’s walls and far from any other clan that have found themselves comfortable within the village. Taking a stroll yesterday uncovered many things for him which he did not know or have any idea about despite being the leader of this shinobi settlement. 

Walking through its street with a henge on it helped him associate better than walking in his normal Hokage self. He, laso, during this stroll have heard about the gossiping between civilians about the ‘Curse of Hatred’ -the clan in general, and showed that they could not be trustworthy as they can turn against them and kill them in their sleep.  _ Honestly, as if they would do that. _ With his little time interacting with the civilians in the village’s shops’ streets, he has made it his priority to re-establish the Uchiha clan’s reputation, turning it to the better and let people see how mirthful and trustworthy the Uchiha can be. Regardless of this, he was glad to see people relaxed and interacting with others not from their clan.

Next to his little stroll in the village’s main streets, he changed his henge to blend with the other Uchihas that reside in the compound. When he first entered, he was met with acknowledged stares and welcoming smiles. They probably thought he came back from a mission. Either way, the welcoming was simple, yet warm and refreshing, if he had a say on it, better than people bowing to him whenever he walked down the streets.

He continued walking forward until a pair of elderly couple stopped him to ask for help carrying their new arrived stock boxes into the shop’s storage which he agreed to without a second thought. And as a gift of appreciation for what he did, they gave him some free dango, which he also accepted politely. 

Wandering through the lively streets of the Uchiha compound felt like home. He saw people interacting with each other, children running around playing, others laughing and some smiling, not like he didn’t see that in the village’s center or anything, it just for some reason felt more easy to breath here than there.

When mid-day reached, he decided to go and grab himself some lunch in one of the Uchiha restaurants. So here he sat, drooling at the names written on the menu he was reading like someone who hasn’t eaten food ages, eyes fixed on a specific name: Mushroom soup, extra large bowel costing fifty ryo with the offer of fifty percent. _ Looks like the restaurant is new. _ With that thought, he immediately shook his head and wiped his drool a minute before a waiter came to him asking for his order.

After his very tasty meal, he decided that he should return to fight his arch nemesis before his brother barged in the office and found him nowhere to be found. He shivered at the thought of his brother leaving a clone of himself to “Babysit” his older brother. The last time this happened, he didn’t get any time for a break. Not even a millisecond, in fact, it was the worst of his nightmares he had ever had in his life. The worst. He slumped before he stood out, sighing loudly and exaggerated as he mumbled how his little brother could be so cruel to him. (Somewhere in the far distance, Tobirama sneezed twice and wondered if he had caught a cold.). Just as he walked a half step to get out of his table, a group of Uchihas had stopped him and invited him for a friendly talk. Hashirama being Hashirama, accepted it without a second thought, completely forgetting about his “babysitter” and the real reason of why he was here.

Whilst the group of Uchiha’s he was sitting with chatted and joked lightly, he suddenly remembered his reason of blending in with the Uchiha when he could very well just walk around and chat in his original form like he have nothing to run after or the fact of being the leader of the said village they situated themselves into, so he asked the question that was stuck in his tongue the moment he returned from the final fight with Madara. _“What do you think of Madara?”_ With that question being asked, the laughter died and the air became as thick and toxic as ash. Then he knew it. They needn’t say anything.

A clearance of someone's throat dragged him back to reality. He raised his head to look at the source and found a fist covering Mito’s mouth. “Hokage-sama, Tobirama-san, can you please excuse me and my mighty clan head to have a word of our own?” or in other, simpler words; get out. He stood up and nodded to her simple request. With a spoken ‘of course’, he and Tobirama walked out of the office.

Unsurprisingly to him, just as the door closed behind him and they walked a good three feet away from the room, he felt cornered by the death glare sent to him. Of course, Tobirama is just like that! If he is just as he is always and not as he is today, he would just have acted like an innocent child denying something they did when they actually did it. Right now, however, after learning -not completely- everything from that single stroll he took around the village, he noticed just how blinded by his visions of peace to not notice his best friend’s loneliness despite living amongst people in a big society. And he is willing to fix this, even if it meant breaking the only way to have an alliance with another village.

“What is the meaning of this, anija?” his brother stared at him with those narrowed, slit, red eyes of his, demanding a convincing, logical answer for his question. Which he doesn’t have. Convincing his brother has always been hard (not harder than paperwork, though), so telling him that he has finally opened his eyes for the now won’t convince him even for the tiniest bit. Thus, he decided to tell him the first thing that got in his mind rather than waiting for another to come up. As soon as he opened his mouth, Tobirama, being the usual Tobirama, spoke. “Don’t try to convince me that Madara’s fight has dug some sense into you. It’s lame and unconvincing. Idiotic.” ...was exactly what he is going to say. So, he just closed his mouth and pouted.

“You think too low of me, ototo.”

“Not my problem you don’t understand any given situation -rather, anything  _ at all  _ in a short period!” Faster than a blink of one's eyes, he was found huddled two feet away from him. And he heard his little brother literally sigh  _ at him _ . “What you said is true, though.” Faster than a jolt of lightning, he was up again, grinning at his little brother, who just groans.

Later on, after a not-so-long and not-so-short amount of time, the door for the Hokage office opened and at the doorway stood Mito smiling in satisfaction as she motioned for them with her hands to come back in. With that indicated, the Senju brothers stared at each other with raised eyebrows, completely not expecting this -whatever  _ this _ was. Shrugging it off, both of them walked back to the office, shutting the door behind them.

Later that day, when the sun started setting, the clouds started to gather and hide the beautiful orange hue of the setting sun, casting unnecessary shadows on the land. The Uzumaki representatives have already left the office leaving Tobirama and Hashirama alone there. And to the Hokage’s greatest pains, he has to sit on his chair and  _ happily _ work on the  _ captivating _ mountain of paperwork that  _ whined _ for his  _ caring _ attention. But he didn’t plan that, even if the paper laying in front of him stared challenging back at him, he had other plans, rather, he remembered something important while going through one of the papers in the stack.

He sat unusually silent doing his paperwork -no, scratch that,  _ staring _ at the paper in front of him whilst his mind strayed. When he was four, he remembers his mother giving him a book -a short story. He doesn’t remember its contents but some sentences caught his young attention. Even though he didn't understand what it meant those previous years, he did now.

“Astray.” He freed his fingers from their intertwined form and raised his gaze to stare at his little brother who stopped working and raised an eyebrow at him as though he had said something alien… OK it did come out of the blue! “When I was four, mother gave me a book called ‘Astray’.” he paused, waiting for his brother to say anything but was given an indifferent look instead. So, he continued. “I forgot what the story was about but I remember some lines that have caught my attention back then. “The loneliest of people are the kindest. The saddest of people smile the brightest. And the most damaged of people are the wisest.” at first, I had no idea what it meant but now,” he took a deep breath then gazed right through Tobirama’s eyes gleaming with renown anticipation before he continued. “Now, it is crystal clear.” thunder rumbled behind him, casting a dramatic effect on the scene it let Tobirama (who mentally facepalmed) witness.

* * *

His left hand clenched tightly a dripping kunai he held whilst the other hand hung uselessly by his side numb. His head was raised facing the gloomy, grey sky. Not because it was night, no in fact, the sun was preparing to set and give its mighty throne up to the moon. He grinned to himself, eyes shadowed by the darkening scene. He stood stiff, unable to relax. Unable to believe, unable to  _ feel _ . His posture welcoming the pouring rain. 

He stood there silently motionless, until the sound of rumbling hit his buzzing ears and strong, strong light stole the vision of his unfocused eyes. He blinked, and shaped his mouth in a silent “oh”. It’s raining. It is thundering. It is  _ storming _ . It is  _ raging _ , yet, here he is, standing, welcoming the rains as it kissed every part of him, welcoming the coldness they held, the coldness that the weather held. Mercilessly. He welcomed it all.

The sharp, metallic click made him gasp for air, not knowing that he was holding a breath all that time long -or maybe short? He didn’t care, as time seemed to fly like a hawk attacking its prey. He closed his eyes and smiled to the raging rain before bowing it, hair curtaining his expression as rain fell on his face. Then, he brought up his feeling arm, and with his palm, he covered the right part of his face and choked. This is torture. Living again was a torture. Playing the same time over again is extreme torture. He laughed.

He raised his numb arm and stared at its long, deep diagonal line stretching from his inner elbow to the tip of his middle finger, and grinned. Licking the still oozing, fresh blood rolling down from the opening it was provided and licked it. He shivered as his taste buds caught in the iron taste and nostrils tickled with its unpleasant but reassuring smell. He is indeed sure that someone afar is laughing at his suffering but he didn’t mind them. It was truly ironic and incredible. At least, with that numbing feeling and unpleasant shivering from the cruel taste and smell of his blood, his palpitating heart threatening to break through his internal cage, he can assure himself that he is alive, that he is not living in a genjutsu. That he is not living in Mugen Tsukuyomi. That he is truly, and undeniably alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, I played with this chapter until I said enough. So, I'm not apologizing cause it came out bad. Another note to say: despite the swirling mind with ideas that are come from an unknown place even to me, my updates are so not frequent. Sometimes it may take me a month or two to upload a chapter and rarely couple of weeks. My point: worry not cause I made this story as my top priority. Let's just hope that boredom won't keep my mind as empty as a pearl-less shell -.-  
> 3,759 ;-; 
> 
> oh, and the next chapter is going to be filler since I planned on writing something for Madara's b-day but couldn't, cause I was in a staring contest with this chapter.
> 
> And if you enjoyed it, let me know cause I'm desperate : >


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